


Befriending Omens of Death (and Death Himself)

by kixxy23



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Augury, Black Butterflies, Black Cats, Broken Portraits, Child Abuse, Clocks, Crows, Death likes to give Harry things, Death sees Harry talk to snakes, Death's-Head Hawkmoths, Deathwatch Beetles, Even if he's not in this story, Faded Pictures, Gives him a Black Mamba, Harry becomes a Disney Princess, Harry is Death's Champion, Harry is creepy, Master of Death Harry Potter, Mirrors, Of Death Omens, Ominous Baking, Opals, Owls, Ravens, Sirius Black is technically a Death Omen, Snakes are actually symbols of re-birth, Spiders, broken dishware, graveyard, will-o-wisps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 20:36:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19838065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kixxy23/pseuds/kixxy23
Summary: Death is very possessive of his things. Harry, having technically died and come back, is the only one to escape the god's grip.Death isn't too angry as he gets to see Harry change the world around him.~Death 'adopts' Harry and gives him a lot of pets.





	1. Chapter 1

It started one Hollow's Eve, in 1981.

The barely waxing slit in the night shown little light upon the coming horrors this Samhain.

A great evil, by the title of Dark Lord and moniker Voldemort, descended upon the home. Once protected by magic, now revealed by a traitor, nothing was to stop the tragedy to come in Godric's Hollow. And why, might you ask, is the reason for barging into the home so late at night?

A prophecy.

One of an equal, born as the seventh month dies, from those who'd thrice defied him. Foretold to wield a power the Dark Lord knows not.

Such a thing couldn't stand to exist in Voldemort's blood-colored eyes. And thus, he began his storm into the Potter's abode. A flick of his wrist and the husband was dead. He proceeded to follow the red-headed woman into the nursery.

"Please, please! Spare him!" She used her body as a shield, standing between the crib and the monster.

"Move aside." The man used his wand to gesture her away, his tone cold and creaking.

"Please! Not my son! Not my baby!" The woman sobbed as she faced down the Dark Lord with tears in her eyes. She would not be moved.

"Move, or else you will meet the same fate."

"No! Take me instead! Kill me, but don't hurt Harry!" She begged. One could see how she bent her legs, almost on her knees, pleading the (not-quite) man.

Green burst from the pale wand, Voldemort's patience worn thin, and the wife was gone.

But little did he realize what he'd done. He accepted the mother's deal. Which is why, when casting the same killing curse upon the child, magic struck back at him.

Lady Magic takes oaths seriously. Another wizard to break one would have had their magic rended from their bodies, and most probably killed. But Voldemort, cowed by death he was, had split his soul and hid them in items left scattered or guarded. Lady Magic could not take these pieces or their power. So she did the next best thing. She took a piece of the shattering soul and placed it into the babe left crying in his crib, inside a scar that was akin to lighting.

Dark fingers gently his tracing eyebrow and cheekbone, she softly shushed the babe to calm down. "You will do more than survive my child."

"Oh? Then Hecate, you will be able to explain to me why you resurrected the child. You know how I get about my things being touched."

She fluidly, leisurely, turned her head towards Death, one hand still on the child.

"Do not tell me that you are not interested. A child, born to defeat the one that smears your name. He will grow powerful, more powerful than many before him. More powerful than those to oppose him."

"You sound more like a child giving reasons to keep a puppy than a god declaring the future."

"Excuse you? You realize that Tom Riddle will only cause more havoc than he's worth?"

"Since when did you care about sides in the mortal's war?" Death said snidely. Magic was having none of it.

"I do not _care_ for the mortal's war!" She spat in disgust. "What I want is for the wizarding world to be shaken."

This caught Death's interest. "And what, pray tell, do you have in mind?"

"I am sick of so many wizards using me as an excuse to hurt my other creations. My creatures are dying due to their negligence. They say I'm dying because of my new children, as well. They have caused so many wars on my behalf, only to take my power and use it for a selfish gain. I do not mind the murder, war is inevitable, blood is the strongest power when given. I do not favor Light nor Dark. But if things continue the way they are, there will be an extinction, and I won't be as powerful." She turns her head once again to look at the child watching her with wide green eyes. "He will be the one to bring change. I do not care how. But he will."


	2. Chapter 2

At first glance, Harry is human.

Long after Magic left, Death stayed and watched the child. Barely over a year old, yet already attracting tragedy like an intimate lover. In the time the old god had to observe he noticed the smaller details. The opalescent sheen already pigmenting the boy's scar. A scar which started on his forehead and carved its way down, nicking the babes left brow through, deciding to frame his eyes as it dipped over the top of his soft cheeks. The gem-like color contrasted to the bronze-gold undertone of pink living, breathing flesh. But the eyes were Death's main focus. Lilly Evan's eyes were a shade of tumbled, glass and poison. A vivid green. And while Harry must have had those same eyes before the interference of the older beings, they began to change. It was subtle. Unnoticeable. It unfurled in the depths of green, traces of magic. Traces of the killing curse.

Death pondered this revelation. His own 'eyes' the perfect replica of the same Unforgivable. Did this mean Harry would eventually have the same orbs?

The god tried not to linger on thoughts of kinship. Nor the urge pulling delicately in his chest cavity, unfurling as a dark rose in a harsh winter, thorns digging into ribs, saying _'mine, mine, mine'_.

And as he watched the babe, he startled himself with the knowledge of one thing: _Harry was watching him, as well._

At first glance, Harry is human. On the second, instincts said, ' _Not quite_ '.

~

Finally, someone came to get the child.

Or, so it seemed, at first.

Death peered at the man who held a dour expression, even in his grief. He ran into the house, banging the door open. This startled Harry bad enough to get the babe crying. As Death leaned out the nursery door, he saw the man absently stepping over the husband in his quest upstairs. The elder came back to wait for the man's entrance. He stomped up the stairs only to stop at the foot of the room, staring in dawning horror at the scene displayed inside. But then he did something unexpected. He dramatically fell to his knees at the woman's corpse. Scooping her up and holding her close, he openly started sobbing. The man completely ignored the wailing infant not even ten feet away.

Odd.

And rude.

Cannot he see the _living_ child in distress? Not that the man could not morn, but really? Would the mother want for this man to do such a thing? To leave her babe screaming, a fresh scar on his face and an not even _check_? Death may hold no mortal qualms, but the way the man acted was strange. Which got stranger as the man took a picture, a moving one, of the family before the chaos started. Only to rip the photo, leaving only the smiling woman.

He didn't know how but was beginning to feel worried for once in his existence. Please, let not this man be the one to take Harry and raise him. The plan would not only be ruined, but Harry would probably want everyone dead.

Then the man called Dumbledore onto the scene as well. Maybe all would be good. Harry could go to a nice family, and Death won't have to interact with the child too long. Minor check-up here and there. Nothing to worry about.

Until the man mentioned sending him to be raised with his muggle relatives.

Mayhaps it is a good idea? He would be hidden with his mother's blood wards. And Death would probably only have to visit moderately more to teach him magic. It would also help pit him against the Pure-Blood stigma. This could bring a positive outcome as he wouldn't need to teach that muggles aren't very different from wizards. Harry would also have an expanded schooling that most wizards didn't have.

He followed the half-giant, only to get a sense of worry once again as the cat-woman said that these muggles were the worse of types. They didn't like the abnormal. Most-likely hated magic.

This was not good.

The sentiment was further pushed when, upon seeing her nephew on her doorstep, Petunia Dursley threw a fit ending in her abandoning a softly crying infant in a cupboard under the stairs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Child Abuse! (The Dursely's are horrible people, they will deserve every act of retribution against them later on.)
> 
> Death's wrath is not something you wish to meet.  
> It's slow.  
> It's terrifying.  
> And, in the end, there is no escape.

Death was brooding. He had done so for quite a while now.

Green gazed from behind spindling lashes and raven locks. Even so young, Harry Potter had a mess of black upon his tiny skull. It seemed to blend with the darkness of the cupboard. Almost as if trying desperately to hide from the disparaging remarks and hostile behavior of his relatives.

Death knew people could be cruel. Especially to those they don't understand. He just wished he didn't have to experience it first hand. Harry was his ward. He wouldn't die from the mistreatment. But it could do far worse if left unchecked. And it was.

The babe has already learned that crying means nothing but pain, so Harry was left to wallow in soft whimpers and silence. The cupboard was dark and cold. Death may be suited to such conditions and even favor them, but for Harry it was horrible. Made worse by the fact he was left in a foul diaper until the smell grew to horrific and the horse-faced woman finally changed it. Not to mention the physical and verbal abuse. Death had learned that children in such situations will eventually forget to be children. Or even human.

It'd only been a month and Harry was covered in minor hand-prints. His once-soft skin made raw and red in several areas where it wasn't already purple and blue. Harry was too thin and small for an eighteen-month-old child.

The plan was going to Hell in a handbasket, made by everyone involved in this situation. And Death could not kill the Dursely's. Yet.

It was times like these that Death was thankful he didn't need to go to every creature when they died. His Reapers took care of that. And he couldn't do much more than to guard Harry in any which way he could without letting his presence be known. All Death had left to use was to feed Harry his magic. He never knew how difficult it could be to keep something _alive_.

It seemed the infant at least enjoyed the company of the eldritch abomination. 

The babe was most definitely able to see him and interact with the being. In the long hours of being abandoned in the cupboard, Harry seemed to be fine with his only companion. And Death had to admit that he enjoyed the positive interaction from the smaller creature.

Uncoordinated hands would reach in the air, demanding attention. Tiny fingers combed through various textures, ruffling feathers and brushing fur this way and that. Stone was interesting, but the glint of metal and crystal caught tiny green orbs. Death even let Harry use the bone of his fingers to start teething, gumming at the porous material. And in the times he was corporeal enough for Harry to actually touch him, Death took up every crevice of the dark ' _room_ ' to surround the boy completely.

Death brooded, but he made sure not to show it around Harry. The child already fears everything. He does not need to fear his guardian like that. Death would be remiss to let such ever happen.

His magic was no substitute for the sustenance Harry needed. Harry could barely toddle around with how weak his body was, rarely moving inside the cramped area. His eyes were too adjusted to the dark for the boy to stand light stronger than what wept from the few eyes Death left open in his presence. His tan skin turning gray. Not only that, but the frequent damage left on Harry has probably left him very quick to either breakdown or, more recently, causing him to go blank. 

Death knew he could not kill the Dursely's. That did not mean he could not punish them. And he knew the perfect way to start

After all, the house may be made with mostly softwoods, but the floor of the first level was old oak. The other occupants probably won't hear those till June, as he'll need to prepare in a little before April.

And there are plenty of other critters he can add before-hand.

~

Webs are starting to appear around the house.

Death felt vindicated at the woman screaming from seeing the first spider.

Harry was just happy to wave a few new friends.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick update. Since I haven't in a while.

There were strange things happening in the Dursley household. Everyone on the street knew it.

Exterminators for spiders, Deathwatch Beetles, and Hawkmoths frequented the house, as the neighbors found out. There was always a crow or raven lurking in their trees. Black cats tend to bring dead things to their door. The very yard seemed to be darker in both soil and foliage. If a neighbor came into the house they would hear knocking in the walls. Pictures seemed to fade, as well as the wallpaper. Every floorboard creaked and groaned. The clocks would always be right one moment and wrong the next. It was safe to say that the Dursley's were gaining an unfavorable reputation. Much to Death's delight.

The only reprieve allowed was when they'd take Harry out of the cupboard. Until they either hit, yelled at, or put Harry back in the cupboard. With how stupid they were, it took a lot longer then Death would have liked for them to start not hurting Harry.

Perhaps he should have had birds come down the chimney earlier than he had ended up doing so? That was the final straw for Petunia to realize that magic might be protecting the child. Or in response to the child. Either way, it had lead to her taking the child out more.

Which caught the neighbors' notice. Especially since the child's state was not good in any form. Petunia made a sob story of her little sisters 'abusive husband' and how the two died in a car crash, leaving only Harry. She spun how those that were taking care of her nephew had not been the best of people before giving him to her family. After that, she brought Harry out more. She loved the attention and how it was fixing their reputation. Harry was just happy to be treated like a child during these moments.

He still went to the cupboard at night. But he got a little more food. He wasn't being hit or yelled at, by anyone other than Dudley.

But, alas, humans are stupid.


End file.
